MirageHound Drabble
by covacola
Summary: Brief thing, Mirage and Bloodhound almost get caught making out during a Game. Do we have Apex categories yet? w/e.


"Mirage." Their filtered voice floated to him, quiet, but somehow still quite firm in breaking him out of the spell of smoke and gunfire.

They'd narrowly slipped away. A larger conflict had broken out. Way more people had survived much longer than anyone would have hoped, but they still had a few minutes before the ring would close them all in further. Best to slip back and let things settle a little. And... He grunted. He'd taken a pretty nasty hit to the side. Bloodhound had swiped a med kit from somewhere, thankfully. That was another save on their end. He'd been lagging this whole Game.

All this he'd taken in peripherally, squinting back the way they'd come, back toward the shouts and blasts and chaos. He grunted, "yeah, I know," and opened his hand to receive the med kit.

Except that wasn't what they were doing, apparently. A slight tug was all he'd been able to register before his head, fumbling with pain, adrenaline, and mild blood loss, caught up. He was pressed awkwardly against them, his lips on theirs- on theirs? Yes. They'd removed part of their breathing apparatus and- and that's when his head finally decided to switch gears, everything locking into place. Immediately his head swam for a different, and all together more pleasant, reason.

He smirked, chuckling into the kiss. He opened his mouth to make some smart remark, but was only able to make some playful noise as they took the opportunity to slip in some tongue. Pleasant surprise indeed. But then he froze, pulling back just enough to whisper a warning "cameras."

"Checked," they breathed, then went right back into it. It was enough for him. He melted into it, more just enjoying the ride and, for once, not trying to pull anything cute.

Until, of course, it started having other effects, less easy to push aside. He halfheartedly hummed something like, "wait, hold on," but it was enough.

He couldn't see their eyes through the mask, but he could tell they were probably concerned. They never showed much in their voice, but he'd learned to pick up the subtle shifts. "Are you alright?"

He smiled, breathing harder than normal, enjoying the view for a moment. Just enough for them to relax. "Yeah," he chuckled, "but you're makin' me hard."

Mouthpiece still removed, he indulged the smile they allowed him to see. "That is the point."

He quirked an eyebrow, "that right? You're a tease, but I never expected this." His emphasis and tone, however, implied otherwise. He slid closer once move, hands dancing up their sides, moving to their chest and further still until his thumb slid over their bottom lip, still quirked in a smile. He leaned in, probably to say or do something dirty, but never got the chance.

They heard an all too familiar whirring and stopped him, reflexes stopping one of his arms. His eyes were wide in surprised for a moment, then his features wrinkled just slightly with concern, then realization dawned, all within the span of a second. He sprung into action, jumping a respectable distance back as they replaced the breathing apparatus- not failing to see the momentary light of interest in their partner's eye as he tried to piece together how their gear worked- but then reached out, thinking just a moment faster than him.

He had just barely begun, when he cut off his own surprised cry. He got it instantly. It wasn't something they were unaware of, but it still always struck them when he caught on to these things so quickly. "Hey, hey! No need to be rough," he complained. His voice was well modulated, balancing reasonable annoyance and bruised pride with his general brand of flirtiness. Cute.

"Be quiet and allow me to patch your wound," they responded, almost disappointed he could not see their approving smirk.

"I patched it fine-" good actor he was, he cut off the sentence, wincing dramatically, just as the camera drone broke through the brush and turned toward them.

They pretended not to notice it. "Which is why it fell apart as you ran," they shot back in as dry a tone as they ever got. After a measured pause and a bit of consideration, "let me."

He leaned back, dropping onto the dirt completely, and let out a groan. At that same moment, he turned his head, as if to have just now realize they were being watched. They kept their mask pointed at the wound, which they were pleased to see had been as light as they'd suspected, but their eyes shifted to enjoy the little show he put on for the camera. A wink and his signature grin before, "I hope no cuties out there rooting for me are worrying their pretty little heads. Ain't nothing to worry about." They masked the jolt as they bit back a snort as a deliberate jab to shut him up. He took the cue and they feigned banter once more. That would surely be a crowd pleaser, they thought.

Honestly, this man...


End file.
